


The hunt

by Escritora2Aliasfox



Series: Supernatural and good omens crossover [3]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7820611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escritora2Aliasfox/pseuds/Escritora2Aliasfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester brothers are ofered one peculiar job: to hunt down both certain demon and angel.<br/>But, what could these two possibly do to upset both above and bellow in such a delicate moment?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. job offer

**Author's Note:**

> As the others of the same series: no need to read book or watch show in orther to understand...
> 
> i will publish weekly

-Cass. Cass?  
-Yes, Dean?  
-uhmp!

He did it again. He appeared right behind him. So close he could feel the warmth of his vassel. Ass feathered… dumb ass!

-Personal spa…! Oh, fuck it. I have a question for you, man…dude,…whatever.  
-I will help you however i can, Dean.  
-Great. Cool. Who’s Asirafell?

The angel whose blue tie matched his eyes inclined his head to one side, with that expresion of a puppy that has no idea of anything, and is asked to sit.

-Who?  
-You are pronouncing it wrong, Dean. It’s Aziraphale.  
-oh. Yes. There is an angel by that name.  
-what dif…anyways. What abouth him?  
-…he is a principality. He was the guardian of the eastern gate of heaven.  
-Yes, Cass. I can find that much online- Sam talked with a pacient tone, siting ath the table with a half empty cup of coffee- But what can you tell us abouth him?  
-Details, Cass-urged his protected one.  
-uh…not much, really. He doesn’t stop by heaven very often. it’s a field agent: has been on earth for milenia.   
-…has he done somethig…wrong in here?  
-…like what?  
-I don´t know, something he should be punished for?  
-… once he lost a flaming sword. The one he was given to protect heaven. The very same day Adam left paradise…

Dean lifted a brow –that was a while ago. Any actual news?

-… a few years ago happened something…extrange. We all where prepared for battle. We were told this was the definite battel. The last one. Armagedon. We even dressed our battle gear and prepared to take fisical form on ear to figth all demons in hell…  
But nothing happened. We waited, and alter a while we were told it was a false alarm.   
-…wow. How come?  
-…it is confusing…and not spoken of very ofthen in heaven. I do relieve it was Aziraphale’s mistake…for he was the land agent. Or something. he was spoken of like it was his fault.

Dean and Sam looked at each other. Hell sounded quite human sudenly. Of course they should be use to it by now, but still.

-wow. when did this happen?  
-…two decades ago, or so. It was still xx century.  
-and he didn’t get punished?  
-Armagedon was a plan of hell. We where prepared for the fight but it was not trully evil nor punishable to…get the date wrong. Or so. He is looked at like some short of un-trust worthy, thoug.  
-So, he is the clumsy Exchange-worker black sheep of heaven, uh?

Castiel screw his eyes a little bit. Not getting the referente.

-he is not a lamb.

The boys shifted unconfortably.

-we’ve got a call. From heaven.

Cass looked at them with his expresión for “really?” Dean passed him an emvelope. It was open, and inside there was a simple letter written in times new roman.

-they want us to haunt him down. 

Silence reigned while Cass looked over the text, a very human, shoked and confused expresión on his face now.

-…of course. …it can be fake…  
-it is not fake- Cass didn’t lift his head from the paper- this is undoubtly from heaven. …but why?  
-…they didnt say that. But maybe we can ask Crowley.

Castiel finally looked at Dean questioningly.

-What does he have to do with this?  
-we got a call from hell as well.   
-yeah, it came throu my car’s damned radio!

Sam sighted before continuing.

-seems like heaven and hell agree on this: they want both caught. Crowley and Aziraphale. They will even leave us alove if we do this.  
-wich sounds very suspicious: hell wants their king killed? How come? How does he not know? And what on earth could get them to agree on this… and let us do in such a…delicate time?  
-If it was just from hell it would be easy to refuse, but heaven? They can be jerks as well, but many angels have died. What makes this one different? Why send us for him?  
-what makes him different is that he has been on earth for so long, he knows more than most angels. remeber how was i when i first got here?

Dean wanted to mention he still was, but he resisted.

-Aziraphale knows humanity and the fisical World and if he doesnt want to be found…it might be needed the help of expert huters. Like you.  
-ok, that explains the job offer. But why?  
-…i’d like to know too. Sadly, being on the run, i can not ask them directly.   
-they did agree to stop the fire, but they wont spill.  
-yeah, and what abouth crowley.

Cass stoped talking. It was a bit confusing, after a while when he finished procesing and the boys knew he had been thinking.

-i suspect you may have mispronounced it again.  
-…how come?  
-the king of hell is called Crowley. But there is another. One who calls himself Crowley, but is actually Crawly. It leads to a lot of confusion.  
-…so its diferent demons. They should be more precise next time, i guess this Crawly guy is no king of hell?  
-not even close: he is a fairy low demon. Below the principality of course, but still has the same job as Aziraphale: is hell’s land agent.  
-…so what does he do? He comands all demons on earth?  
-He comands nothing. His job is obsolet: before things got out of hand not many demons, much less angels would visit the earth. It was aziraphale’s job to match over and inform the officials. And Crowley’s to tent and send good news of bad things to hell. Both of them have been archnemesis for millenia, since the beggining of humanity. It seemed like Aziraphale had no problems to keep the demon at bay until after the …false alarm of apocalypse. I don’t know what happend.   
-…so, long story short: hell and heaven bot agree that they want their field agents out of the buishness? …i dont like it.  
-…maybe they are simple not usefull anymore now that angels and demons walk around by docens. Maybe tose two know too much. They said the balance was at bay, more than ever. That we humans should care most.  
-there is one thing…i recall suspicious.

Both brothers awaited.

-...the day of the last fight that wasnt, Aziraphale was called to join us. …and he seemed reluctant to leave earth. Even when he came. He claimed it was a mistake and left as soon as he had a chance.  
-…  
-…that’s a start. Maybe he is not on the angel’s side anymore, but the earth’s is that posible?  
-well, you, Cass are on our side after just a few years of life here. Tink of…millenia.

…

-told you i’d be a good hunter.


	2. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam locate a suspicious point where the monster may live... in Shojo, London.

Cass told them last time he heared of Aziraphale he was at London. Somewhere.   
As they would have peace for as long as they worked for hell and heaven, they took a ship instead of a flight. (Dean wasn’t thinking of abandoning the impala anyways)  
The boys consulted their father’s book once again and visited a local, trusty vident (as trusty as vidents can be)

Finally, they looked for paranormal activity and rare news around the city…wich happened to be a capital, and not only that but filled with ghosts, legends and ancient magic lore. It was like try catching a transparent goldfish in a gigant tank filled with thousands of goldfish. With your bare hands. 

Bedsides, the brothers were not used to the londinense clima.

Sam masaged his eyes with a groan, the laptop opened in front of him…on the impala. He had worked indoors, trying and failing misserably to get used to the time change: whenever he wanted to take a rest, everything was closed. So he stuck to his brother, who liked to drive arround searching for pie. (a good thing in this city is there was plenty of good pie)

…a bad thing is Dean was still complaining for the recent use of his car’s radio.

Sam closed his eyes tiredly thinking it may help. But his brother’s complaints between burger and pie kept torturing his overwelmed mind.

-we could move here- Said Dean with ironic disgust- we could spend our entire lives cleaning this place of withches and ghosts and…tooth fairys, and it would still be the capital of weird stuff! And then they say abouth New Orleans! (munch) expend a week on london and then tell me (glup) theres so much demand you’ll find a job. …or three. Every five minutes!  
-Dean im trying to think! Ok? Can you at least be quiet while you eat?  
-sorry, princess.

Dean let go a burp. Then laugthed. At least one of them was habing fun between fails. Sam, otherwise, was exausted from the research.

He had to look for real posible cases, dismiss the less probable, select the most probable. Then realice there was no angel behind them. Ignore them and start again.  
Over and over and over.

They might as well work on a couple of them. You’d think the place would be cleaner habing an angel arround!

He was used to this kind of work, but he was worried he was actually missing something, and this was all useless.

-its been a week already  
-shit Cass!! Really? First the radio and now…

From the back of the car, Cass ignored the complaint. He asked if they had found something jet.

-Not a damn thing. And im starting to have a head ache.

Castiel looked at sam with his worried-doubthfull look and eased his pain placing a finger on Sam’s forehead. Sam breathed deeply. He fell unconcious against the car’s window, his hands hitting the open laptop.

-Cass, what did you do!?  
-i eased his pain. But he also needed some sleep.  
-damn. Can you take him to the bed too? He is snorting all over the window. And i had enough with the car already.

Cas inclined the head again. Dean groaned.

-Please, Cass?! Do it for me, if you…

Cass was already gone. Sam had desapeared as well. Dean sweared and then started driving for somewhere with pie. He had almost finished his burger.

Sam woke up on the morning, feeling refreshed. He went out for a londinense breakfast, seeing the light of sun (clouded, but still there) fro first time in a while.  
He went back to his room and when he opened the computer he had more clear ideas of what he was searching for.

-what we are looking for is someone who not only trys to hide, but has been among humans for so long…it must have, i don’t know. A life. Almost human. He will have favourite places, food he likes, a home…and he will not be calling atention with stupid poltergeist stuff.  
-so- Dean felt better seeing Sam more recovered- how do we find him?  
-how abouth something odd, not suspicious, just… fishy?  
-…fishy. Like what?

Sam fliped the laptop to show him a picture on the google maps. It was a tiny bookshop on a street of shojo. 

-what abouth that?  
-a bookshop? Old? Antique? In shoho! And it doesen’t even have a web page. How does it survive? Aparently it doesnt have a regular aperture time.  
-is nothing odd, Sammy! The place is in shojo! So much people come across some might be curious for it; i don’t know. You are the bookworm.  
-It has been open for generations. To the name of some “A. Zira Fell”

Dean ate his words. He looked at Sam with big eyes and added- what are we waiting for?


	3. aproach, shoot...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam enter the bookshop and find a nice old man they can ask for the angel...  
> and for books, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a scene here that was slightly inspired in a picture from deviantart.
> 
> search for "superomens" by "lord-october" and enjoy.  
> is very enjoyable

Sam had to insist to Dean not to enter in any of the many sex shops at shojo. 

-i can’t velieve we came all the way here just to enter the most boring shop in shojo- he complained.

But there it was. Just across the road. An old bookshop, looking lonely between all the restaurants and erotic shops. Sam tried, he did, but he couldn’t read the name of the place, wich had become worn out and lost letters with the pass of time.

(even if he had make it, the name wouldn’t have matched the bookshop, as when it was bought by its current owner, long ago, he hadn’t even bothered on changing it)

After a while waiting outside and nothing happening, the boys went ahead and entered the place. (Dean had with him Castiel’s angel blade, just in case)

They where welcomed with the smel of dust, mold and moisture. Dean made a face, and srinked his nose.

-Wow- he said- …a place with… personality!  
-…i’m glad you apreciate it. Thank you very much.

Both the brothers directed theyr face to where the voice had come from. With a tiny hint of passive agresive sarcasm.  
On one side of the narrow entrance, there was a counter, and, sitting behind, courching over a book withouth even lifting his gaze for the newcomers, there sat a man.

Sam could swear he had dust on himself a bit like the rest of the place and the table, like he had been reading in the same position, without mooving to even go to sleep or drink, or else. It may be the outdated clotes he was wearing: a green crochet vest, over a tight wite shirt and a plaid bow. None of the boys had repaired on him before.

Sam went for the books. Maybe there was some kind of clue on them. Dean had no interes on literature: he went for the man.

-Oh, sorry, we hadn’t seen you.

The man emited a quiet “hm” Dean felt unconfortable. He had no idea how to trate a prehistoric bookworm, and he didn’t have the excuse of the FBI.

-well. How was your day?  
-…hm. It was calm, and quiet.

There, that hinch again. Dean got it. No casual friendly conversation. He needed an excuse to get information out of the old man.

-yeah, it will be quiet again as soon as we can leave. So…?

Slowly, the man behind the counter looked at him.

He could habe been his father. Or older than his father (counting the clothing) e had short, blonde curls and half-moon glases. Behind those glasses, stood an old gaze of blue eyes.

He didnt look like part of their bushiness. If he had been a tiger it would habe been an old one, with worn out teeth, who had always been at the zoo and was happy there. Dean could not help but to sympatice with the old bastard.

-what do you have here?

The old man ofered a fatherly, warm smile.

-books.

Dean smiled back. there are moments when you just don’t know if they are being sarcastic or sincere. You have to use your instinct. 

His instinct said this guy didn’t like losing his time.

Sam had no better luck. All the books on the selves had a thick layer of dust in them. He tried reading a few… and onestly he was impresed: first editions, of rare copies of peculiar, very old books. Old like “forbidden in the dark ages” old. Or “written by a drunk pope” rare.

Wait a moment…how much can one of these cost? Where did he get them? What where they doing here filled with dust? What kind of cover, or shop was this? They didn’t looks just from a specialiced stock, more like a very specific stock.

…a personal, specific stock.

-excuse me, sir. How much may one of these cost?- he interrupted Dean, who was not making much of a diference anyways.  
-wich one, boy?  
-I don’t know, any of these- sam holded three in one hand, one in the other.

The man talked to him with the same polite, passive agressive tone.

-dear boy, you should know what you’r looking for before you come to a specialiced store. And please, don’t hold them like that, they are delicate.  
-Yeah, but what is the price?  
-Some of them may not be for sale.

Sam insisted. He had a hinch.

-Like this one? Or this one?- he handed them clumsily. The blonde, middle aged man got up from his place, leaving a mark in the page he was reading, and walked up to him.

Truth is, he didn’t seem menacing. Sam wondered if he was being too pecky.

-why don’t you tell me what you are looking for so i can save us time?- he tried to, politely, take the books from his hands.

-Have you seen anyting extrange around these days, sir? …or maybe a few years ago? Like, around this shop?  
-This is shojo, dear. Things happen all the time.

The old man put a casual hand on Sam’s shoulder, and the boy suddenly felt the urge to get out of there. He didn’t know if it was hunger or boredom, or the sudden fear or habing left the oven on… but as an experienced hunter, he recogniced it. It was not a feeling of his. It was induced for a powerfull being, as a natural defense. He knew it.

The books where not for sale, but a preciated collection. The place was not a shop, but a den, for a very old, powerful creature he had right in front of him. Camouflaged to look harmless.

Sam signaled Dean with a single look. He knew it. The younger one throwed the books he had to the air, as a distraction, and droped the oil on the floor around the man, forming a circle at the contact with Dean’s…

But before they had time to lit it, the man was suddenly behind Sam, holding his arm in high, with a strengt unknown to most chubby middle aged men.

-Who are you- his voice sounded now quite threatening, and Sam couldn’t help but to feel like a fish already on a hook.

-…what do you want, and how did you find me?

Dean got out then the blade and attempted a hit. The creature wich once seemed a man strugled and jumped backwards, all the way to the center of the shop, wich was wider. There he stood with his spread wings, and a menacing stance.

Both brothers froze. They had never seen an angel’s wings.  
They had seen the shadow of them, the mark in the floor when an angel dies, but never the fisical representation of them.

They where huge. All the way from one side of the room to the other, not fully extended and still brushing the selves. It was like a falcon extending his, menancingly, while still on the crack he uses as nest.

…and them, the mice.

(the proportions maybe werent the same, but it did feel quite like it)

-where did you get that thing?- the angel said. (His wings white, maybe grey downs in the softest places, brownish golden markings on the back)

Dean and Sam felt the natural impulse of runing out of the place and don’t stop until they’d crossed the sea, but they stayed theyr grownd, and when they managed to react, Dean called out for support.

Aziraphale tilted his head, not understanding if “Cass” was a war cry, when he felt a strong push on his back.  
He fell clumsily in all fours, inside of the circle, wich was lit before he could react again. He lifted his head and then understood.

-…Castiel? What are you doing here?


	4. catch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they boys are not being very friendly with Aziraphale.   
> wait 'till they get Crowley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if this chapters are too short, and the fic too long, or they just balance one another...
> 
> anyways. i almost finished the whole thing. i will just take my time publishing.

Aziraphale didn’t seem so big anymore, kneeling on the floor, traped in a ring of fire, wis wings forced to witdraw behind him in fear of getting burned. He looked at his youger sibiling with a mex of disvelief and fear. A look of betrial.

-tell us why heaven is upon you.  
-what?  
-heaven and hell- Said Dean- the whole lot. Why do they want your head?

The angel procesed the new information. He then looked up to Castiel, figuring he was on charge and spoke clumsily.

-i-i don’t know. You must be mistaken, …maybe you’re looking for someone else…?  
-don’t give us that shit!

Both angels turned at him.

-you are an awful liar, you know that?  
-Castiel- he kept searching for support on his brother- Please, let me go. I am not to blame of any crime.

But Castiel looked at Dean for an answer. Only then Aziraphale noticed that is was not the angel who was in charge.

-We should get out of here- this was Sam- it is broad daylight, in a library, and we are playing with fire.  
-quite literaly!  
-I don’t know how we could take him with us, without risking attencion- pointed out Cass.

Aziraphale was at a loss of words. He had lived for milenia on earth, but if he ever had seem himself cornered, the only thing at stake was a reemplacable fisical form and a few beloved books. What did this people want from him? Who were they? 

-i got an idea…Cass, can you take his graze?

Aziraphale jerked at that mention. The sole idea was quite a surprise.

-I …have never done that myself…

And now he looked at Castiel. He was contempling the human’s petition!?

-wait. You can not posibly…  
-That way we could handle him easily, and the graze may be usefull to us…and later on, we could even give it back.

Sam, next to him made an aproval gesture. It seemed the most logical thing to do.

-Wait. Castiel, you can not possibly…

But Castiel seemed to find no better option, nor need for further discussion. He mutered a short, and honest “i’m sorry” and he walked forwards, grabing with a strong hand both of the other angel’s wings, from near the base, like some people hold a chiken.

-wha…? No, wait!

Castiel did not. He tok his blade from Dean’s extended hand, rised it, and lowered it in a slicing gesture.

A cry filled the bookshop, making the whole neighborhood of shojo tremble and the boooks to fall of their shelves, filling the air with dust. A bright light came of Castiel’s hand, so bright the present humans could not look for a few moments.   
When they could again, there were no wings anymore, just a bright little light on Castiel’s hand, trapped in a tiny glass bottle, and Aziraphale down on his knees and elbows.

He was so…disoriented. After so long living among humans he had ended up feeling quite human himself, but never like this.  
He felt…so old, and fragile. He sudenly needed to breathe, not just as an aspect of his fisical form. He also felt so old, not like an inmortal creature, but like… like…  
Well, like a midle aged man.

He gasped, and with his eyes very opened he rised a hand to his shoulder. He knew something was missing from within, but it was not even there in a fisic way: the weight of two, so familiar, so big, so strong an sensitive limbs was…gone. An extrange pain where they should be.

-i am truly sorry- said Castiel with his expresionless face, while hiding the graze in his coat, next to the blade.

Then, with a wave of his hand, the fire vanished. It was not needed anymore.

Aziraphale was quite confuse even to react. Sam had to pick him from the floor and make him stand. Dean got a smal knide out of his boot and punctated his lower back with it.

-walk- was all he said. And he found himself pushed out of the shop, and towards an impala car.  
On the way, he looked hopefully to the street, like expecting someone to come right in perfect timing, (and specific someone, actually) but he didn’t came.

The winchester brothers shoved him into the back seat, next to the other angel, and got into the car. They drove off with no further complications, as the people of shoho was still altered abouth the temblor, and didn’t notice the kidnaping of the old book seller.

They drove off to nowhere in particular, while thinking of where to keep theyr victim.


	5. recalibrate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale finds himself confused, as for the first time in existence he is vulnerable and left to the will of his captors: Dean and Sam winchester.  
> At least Crowley is still out there...

Dean was so used to live in the road he had no trouble driving throu the middle of nowhere, London shire, while discussing in shouths what to do next.

Castiel and Sam coincided that the bunker was the safest place, and Cass could teleport them there. Dean didn’t want to, becouse it had been quite a travel to move the car all the way to london, just to teleport back to america so fast.

Aziraphale kept his gaze focused on his knees, while listening to all the shouting, and ignoring it at the same time. In other situation he wuld have attended, and planed a way out… but he was vulnerable now, and confused: for the first time in forever, he was just a man.

-we moved all they way here, taking our time just becouse we didn’t know if we would find him and how long it would take. But now we have what we needed and things may get rough, so we oughta get back in the bunker.

Sam had a point

-yea but… but what abouth the demon?

Demon?

-we still have to find it, and if the angel was here maybe the other guy is not far apart…right?

What demon? It couldnt be…

-I think we should ask the angel abouth this Crawly guy.  
-I know not much of him. Just what i’ve already told you.  
-not you, Cass! The other angel. The graze-less one.  
-oh- he turn over to Aziraphale- What do you know of a demon named Crawly?

Aziraphale was at a loss of words. He could only gape and say “uh? um… nothing!”

-Not here, Cass! We need a good place to question him.  
-in that case, once more i suggest the bunker.  
-ugh! Cass, humansand cars are more afected for things like distace and space than you are used to.  
-yeah, but that’s what Cass is here for. Right?

Cass gave Sam a questioning look.

-you only have me for my translation skills?  
-ugh! No, cass, but you can help us with this. Look, Dean: you stay here with the impala, watch out for that demon. We will be in contact.at the first sight of news Cass gets us toghether. Ok?  
-… fine. Get out of here.  
-cass, take me and the angel backt to the bunker.

Sudenly Dean was alone. He pulled over and turned arround.  
He would start by watching that bookshop, just in case.

Aziraphale didn’t strugle too much when he was tied into a chair with a few ropes. Sam sat in front of him. He was used to work with demons,but a grazeless angel was something new. He hand’t prectice torture on Cass. Bedsides, the man (now for real) sitting in front of him looked quite a lot like a lost granny.

-So. What can you tell me of the demon?  
-uh, what demon?  
-the one named Crawly. He also calls himself Crowley. But he is not. I know you know him.  
-you must have the wrong person. I am not following you.  
-right- Sam breathed deeply- and what abouth heaven?  
-ah…what?  
-…right- Sam took a long breath. This would take petience.

Little did he know, the ex angel had loads of it.

 

Dean searched for clues at the shop. There was an old phone, and just a few numers atached to it. One of them, the most recent, semed quite used. It said “Crowley”   
Dean made a call, and after a few rings, it went into the ansaphone. He didn’t leave a message. Insted he took his own phone and called Sammy.

-why should i trust you?- Aziraphale was happy to find he still had a talent to distract people during a conversation.   
-becouse something tells me we have more expirience delivering hits than you receiving them!- Sams face was red. when his cellphone rang, he made a gesture of patience and got up saying “you just got lucky” even thou it felp more like he was the one geting a break.

Dean told him abouth the Phone and the call. He also had another burger, sleept in the car, and had pie, and another burger, and another pie. He had also taken a walk, and was abouth to make new plans and call his brother to talk abouth leaving the place when something called his attention.

And what a way to call his atention!

A vintage bentley car had just drove into the street, pull over, and stoped right in front of the bookshop, with such easiness, like it belonged there, and like it had more right to own the street than any other car, as it had been there for much longer.

Dean, a lover of cars, and owner of a classic himself, couldn’t help but to stare at the grampa car wich the bentley was. And in perfect conditions! He couldn’t help to notice that it even had a fake gunshot on the back. how cute.

The driver of the car came down, dressed in fancy black clothes, sunglasses and something like snake skin shoes. He didn’t secure the car with keys, and didn’t check the door of the shop. He just walked in.

Dean loost not time in calling Sammy. This was suspicious.

(he couldn’t help to think: if this was Crawly, could he keep the car?)

Crawley had received a call from Aziraphale on his ansaphone. It didn’t say anything but he wasn’t surprised: the angel lived in a state of outdate. You’d think he would know hot to use n ansaphone right? Go figure.

…this thoughs where interupted the moment he stood in the bookshop, rised his sight and called out for the angel, with no answer. But it was not the unexistent answer. It was the books and papers thrown all over the floor, wich made him gape, and then take off his glasses. He called again. There was no one around. And there…

Crowley gave a few steps and reached a dark, circle like mark on the floor. It still smelled of fire.

-You must not worry, as long as you colaborate- Castiel was telling Aziraphale. By then, it was clear to him that the angel in a trench coat hadn’t been on earth for so long, but he did care and know and worked with this humans. Aziraphale tried to tink how to get any use of him.

-after all, angels are not theyr speciality: the usually only torture demons.

Aziraphale focused his gaze, suddenly very interested on the conversation.

-how?  
-well, they have a room, back there. it is specifically design to trap and question a demon. With all the necesary devices to do so. But is not only that: the winchester brothers have been hunting from childhood. All types of creatures, but specially demons.  
-…are you trying to scare me?

Castiel tilted his head to one side.

-no, i just told you they only torture demons.

They were interrupted by Sam.

-Cass. Dean just called. He got that demon. Crawly.

And just like that Cass was gone. Off to Shojo, London. He would be back soon, with company. Sam took his place sitting at the chair in front of Aziraphale…and found him with a very dsiturved face, like he was watching a car crash in slowmo and wanted to stop it… but could not even speak.


	6. retrieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean got the targets of theyr misión, but before the clients come to cellect them, they will question them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> carefull: kind of fisical abuse depicted here, next to some threats and stuff...  
> also, there is a scene in here that was (once again) inspired by a picture in deviantart.  
> i don't know how to make links or mentions jet, but you will find it if you go and search for "some sweet x-over" by "lord-october"

Crawly turned out to be a strong demon. Smart, but low in the rank. Dean had not much trouble capturing him.

Truth be told, he usually killed them on the spot, but he had got quite good on traping them too. Plus, this one seemed like he had never hear of the winchester brothers…nor face a hunter for that matter.

Dean was not impresed by the terrorific alucination the deamon set on his face in orther to scare him, and spat some holy water directly onto it.  
Crowley jumped backwards and twisted, in such fear, such pain he hardly registered the hunter surounding him with a circle of salt and pulling out a knife.

When he looked at Dean, his glasses had fallen over.  
Now Dean was impressed.

-who are you!?  
-you have yellow eyes.  
-is that what calls more your attention? What are you, a wichfinder? Your boss works for me you bloddy prick!  
-shut up! I am a hunter. You know? The kind that has a knife like this.

He showed the blade to his victim.

-yeah, pretty. The wild pork will be impresed. How did you learn abouth this circles!  
-you are exactly the kind of wild pork for this knife, you know? It is design to kill demons. And i don’t mean send them to hell. I mean actual non existence.

Now Crowly was impressed.

-and you fella, are one ugly bastard ‘cause my brother and i have a thing for yellow eyes.

Crowley just found a few words that mattered right then.

-where is the angel?

Castiel came back to the bunker with Dean, and a Demon wearing sakles and a knife to hus throat. He did catch a glimpse of a certain blond somebody sitting nearby.

-Zira?- he tried to sense the angel…but he could not. His presence was there, but there was something missing. Something big and important…

-what did they do to you?- was all he managed before Dean pushed him towards the torture room.  
-Crowley!- Aziraphale tried for the first time to break out of his boundaries-Wait, what are you going to do to him? Let me speack to him!- it was helpless.

Sam left him alone to help Dean settle the demon down in the middle of the trap. Castiel spoke to the exangel in a calming way.

-if you want to negociate you can speak to me, or one of the brothers. But they are going to question the demon now.  
-shut up!

Castiel frowned in confusioon. Even Aziraphale was surprised by his outburst, but a lot of things where happening so fast…

Crowley found himself tied to a chair in the middle of a trap. In a dark, secured room, on the basement of a bunker in america.

America. Of course. Shit!

(even thou the propper term is EEUU)

-you are commiting a major mistake you bloddy bastards!

Sam had been looking at him straight in the eye.

-he has yellow eyes!  
-oh, how observant. And how original!  
-crepy, right? Brings out memories.  
-well, they are not exactly the same…with slit pupils, uh. that’s new.

Crowley kept insulting and menancing until Dean calmly took the tools into display, and selected the ones he was planing to use. Crowley experimented a sudden loss of words. This guys had syngerines, simvols, even diferent types of blood…and the one wich most terrified him: holy water.

-Now, are you going to stay…quiet, or you are gonna tell me why both hell and heaven send us after you?  
-…what?

The blow to his face was so suden he barely had registered it it even when Dean spoke again, while craking his knucles. He had a good right.

Aziraphale stood as silent as he could, trying to capt any noise from downstairs, with his now human ears. It was a while, before he started capting screams. Screams from a familiar voice.

-Crowley. What are they doing to him?  
-i told you already. They are questioning him.  
-are they hurting him?  
-the proper term would be torture.  
-tell them not to. There is no need! We didn’t hurt anyone…

Castiel tilted his head again, confused.

-why did you say “we”

The shouts kept, slowly, rockening.

-please, just tell them to stop! I need to talk with him! Please!

Castiel disapeared and appeared again in the torture room. He varely even looked at Crowley, as he was already quite familiariced wih the image. He went directly for the brother wich seemed less occupied.

Dean was courching over the chair with a knife. So he got Sam. He told him the angel wanted to talk, and it seemed urgent. Sam acceded. Dean could manage on his own.

-No, not you!- Aziraphale said when he saw him- i need to talk with Crowley!  
-um, you mean Crawly, right?  
-no one has called him like that since the beggining of time!  
-well, you see, we know a diferent Crowley, who has always been Crowley, so its a little confusing if…

Another cry came from the depts of the bunker.

-Stop it please! What are you doing to him?

Now Sam was confused- why do you care? Do you two work together?  
-…not exactly…  
-so?  
-well, not anymore…  
-then why don’t you tell what is it?

Another cry.

-i don’t know, i know nothing, but please, let him go!

Sam paced a little. The angel was behaving odd, but perhaps he could…- um, you see, i can not do that, we are working with him.  
-plase!  
-maybe if you tell me what we want to know we wouldn’t have to…

Another shout

-allright! I will tell you all, i will tell you all, but please, let him alone!

Sam sat and courched towards him.

-tell me what?  
-uh… i uh…

Crowley sweared

-i did it all. It was my fault, the demon has nothing to do with it!

Another cry.

-Crowley! Please, make it stop!  
-ok, ok, i’ll go.

Sam didn’t run, but he walked fast back to the torture room. Dean was threatening the guy. …while holding a bucket of water in front of him, and looking him straight in the eye.

-talk. Or it will be your holly shower.

The demon hished back at him with contented rage

-i’ve already said. I. Do. Not. Know. Anything.

Is then when Sam interrupted.

-dean.  
-i’m a bit busy, Sam- Crowley kept looking at the bucket with the paranoia that it would drop at any moment.  
-is the angel: he wants to speak.  
-oh- Dean rised his eyebrows and put the bucket down, right next to the demo’s feet.  
-watch this for me.  
-wait, what?  
-i’m not done with you.  
-no, the angel, you are torturing him to?  
-…maybe.  
-you…leave the angel out of this. He has nothing to do with it.

Sam and Dean stood still while thinking their next move.

-oh really? Thoug you knew nothing…  
-you just… leave the angel alone for your own good. I will tell you all.

Dean balanced his cards and walked out the door while saying 

-i’ll think abouth it.  
-you bastard leave him alone!

The selves closed behind them, and Crowley was left alone in the dark. Dean and Sam walked up to a quiet place.

-so, what did the angel said?  
-he said the demon had nothing to do with this. It was all his doing.  
-…are you freaking kidding me? First no one knows nothing, and suddenly they both claim the fault and try to cover the other. Fuck.  
-Dean… i have an odd feeling.  
-you tell me.  
-No, for real. Look: all the time you’ve been working with the demon, the angel has been complaining. He wanted you to stop torturing him. He seemed actually worried.  
-what, you think they work thogether? Like the demon has something the angel needs?  
-…not exactly. It seems like he…like he actually cares. Like he doesnt want the demon suffering.  
-Bullshit.  
-Dean, think of it: Crawly said nothing ‘till you mention torturing the angel!  
-Sam, remember ruby?  
-o damn  
-no, don’t “o damn” me, Sammy. Demons are never to be trusted and freaking angels who work with demons and get in trouble with heaven are definetly never to be trusted! This are big fishes, we don’t know what we are working with, and that’s what i’m trying to find out. Anyways, soon, above and below will come for them and we won’t have to worry anymore.  
-…hope you are right.  
-so. Lets keep working. I think he has a peculiar dislike for holy water. Whatever i get out, you use it on the angel.

They entered again the room…and it was empty.  
The chair still had the sackles on, closed. On the middle of the circle. But no one sat on it.

-what the… Fuck! Sam, the lights!

The light changed nothing. Crowley was nowhere to be found.

-How the…! The bastard…!

Sam cheked the circle. It was intact. Dean croched upon the chair. Nothing suspicious.

Then, everything happened too fast.

From under the chair, right behind him, a snake jumped up to dean, open mouth, fangs speaded. The hauter had been bending ovet it, and got bitten right on the base of the neck. He jerked backwards, and took a hand to it, but the animal had crawled tight to his head and neck.

It was a big snake, but not as big as a boa. With a little flat head, and dark scales, red markings on the top and a bit softer, greenish on the belly.

-fuck! Take it off me! Take it of me!!

Dean strugled all around the circle, the creature so tightly into him he could not even come out of it.

Sam reacted fast, and he did what first he could without even thinking: he took the bucket of water, and emptied it all flat onto Dean’s face, and onto the snake.

It was very efective.


	7. struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen too fast, and then, nothing happens really.  
> dont worry, there's still a few chapters to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, sorry for publishing late. hope you like it. i love drama!  
> reviews are wellcome...and stuff.

It still was happening all too fast.

The water soaked most of the snake’s body. Automaticly, it janked backwards, freeing Dean and falling to the floor, twisting, and burning, with a continue hiss of pain.

Then Cass came into the room. He saw Dean with a blody hand on his neck, turning pale with dark marks up from there. He walked up to him and with a hand on his forehead, eased the pain. It took him a bit, and Dean still had a painfull bite and deep rushes, but the pison was gone.

He then turned to the snake. It kept squirming in the floor. With a wave of his hand, the water was gone. And the movement, and the hiss.

Cass kneeded over the creature, a hand above it, and stod there.

-Cass, what are you doing?-Dean still had a hand over his rushes.  
-i’m trying to heal him.  
-why!? The fucking bastard almost killed me! Its prettier on fire!  
-we need him alive. Even if just for the case.

The three stood in silence. A silence broken only for the screams of Aziraphale, who had hear the conmotion and was crying to know what had happen, to be allowed to see the demon, to please leve him alone.

Sam walked up to Cass. He seemed troubled.

-…so?  
-i was not made to heal demons.  
-…but you can?  
-i don’t know if i am helping, holding his life, or just making it worst.  
-fuck!- Dean walked out of the room, to the kitchen and got ice for his neck.  
The bite was still smarting.  
Across the dining room, the angel got a glimpse of him.

-Please! Please what happened?

Dean ignored him

-you are hurt. What happened please! Can i help? I can help i swear!  
-no you can! There’s nothing to do. He is practicly gone anyways.

Aziraphale enered in panic.

-w…what you mean gone? What’d you do to gim? Please!!  
-we bath him on holly water- Dean answered casually. He then lifted his gace. What he saw, got him by surprise.  
-No! …please!... please tell me is not true! Let me see him! Please!

was tha…? No way. Dean walked closer. The angel was tearing. He hadn’t notice. Only now he had stopped to look at him. Listen to him. It was the first time he saw an angel cry. Fisicly. With actual tears.

-Please…please just let me see him. Let me see him. I can help i will give you anithing i will tell but please just let me…

Dean really had no way to react. He had encountered feelings: he had no guilt for torturing or killing a demon. Nor for holding back an angel… but this poor old man crying and sufering in front of him, begging him…it was his fault.

Dean though what to do. If it was done without risk there was no problem, right?

He drew a big demon trap, and placed the angel on it. Searched all around the basement (wich had everything from a hooka to a fishing rod) and got a dusty fish tank.

He rinsed it, drew a demon trap on the base, and put the snake in it. And it on the angel’s lap.  
The angel crouched for it and held it against his chest, as gentle and pasionated as a mother would hold her newborn, dying baby.

-Crowley!- he cryed- Crowlety no! …what…what’d they do to you?

At some point he looked at Dean, and Sam, standing next to him,  
with such a hurt, fear and tear filled gaze, Dean felt bad. And he refused! But he truly could not help it.

-it bit me!- he said.  
-You attacked us! You came to my home! And held me, and ripped apart, and hurt and… you did this to us!

Dean was taken back by this shouted, desperated words. Could it be? He had let werewolves and vampires live becouse they where “inocent” …but demons? Demons never! Not even ruby…

And here he was. The angel cryed and cryed holding the lifeless body ofthe burnt reptilian up to him, like shielding themshelves from Dean, a monster.

-Please…- he begged again- Please, give me back my graze.  
-heck no!   
-i will not scape, i swear! You can trap me, and take it away then. I just want to help him. Please, let me help him!

This suited Dean’s idea of leting it loose withouth risking… just big scale.   
He didnt even move. Sam questioned Castiel. 

-you told me to take his graze. Are you sure you want him to have it back?

He hadn’t think of it. –if you can’t help the demon, why could him?  
-…he is a principality. A higer rank. His graze has powers i don’t know.  
-…  
-…Dean. I don’t like this either, but he does seem… like he knows the demon.

Dean looked at Sam with his usual confused expresion, and Sam reogniced the eyes of a deer in the headlights. He could only think of one solution.

They put a metal plate on the floor. Drew on it a demon trap…and a circle of holy fire. The angel sat on the center, the tank on his lap. Castiel got out both graze and blade. 

-try anything. And it will be one less demon, and one less angel.

Then, he passed him the grace.

Aziraphale took it like a drugadict, and before even the gust of wind had washed of the place, spreading his wings, he had crouched over the reptile with even more avidity.

And then, apart from the obsesive, most gentle carases on it’s skin, the silent tears droping on it, and a few wispered nothings, he didn’t move anymore.

In days. Neither did the snake.


	8. heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castielcan't believe his eyes. how does the angel do it?  
> what is his relationship with this demon?  
> dean doen't like it one inch.

Castiel couldn’t believe it.

For days, the angel kept carasing the snake, gently, silently crying over it and wispering words in forgotten languajes. It didn’t work. The body in his hands didn’t have a heartbeat, nor did it breathe. It was cold.

Of course, it must be taken into account that, it didn’t need a heartbeat. Nor did it needed to breath. And it was meant to be cold.

The thing is, it was a slow process, and almost unperceptible for a current person. But Castiel was an angel. And he had much patience. He watched over the other just to make sure he didn’t scape, and, between the feathers, from time to time, he noticed the changes.

The shore burns slowly stoped being shore, and they slowly healed into scars. Maybe a principality’s tears had healing powers? …but, even for a demon?

-how do you manage that?- he had asked at some point. The other angel was so absort into his labour, he was almost caught off guard when he answered.  
-he is acostumed to my energy. It does not harm him. So he can asimilate it.

It felt like they where alone. Like nothing else existed, when finaly, ahissing, craked, weak voice came from the snake.   
The body wasn’t moving, but Aziraphale felt it.

-…Zira? …  
-Crowley. Crowley! I’m here. I am here.  
-…what are you…doing here…?  
Aziraphale left go a happy and humid breath- i am nursing you.  
-…am…i not dead?  
-no. No, thou you tried. You are here, with me.

The snake didn’t say more. Neither did he. It didn’t matter. Bedsides, the feeling emaning from the reptile was enough: a feeling of peace, and calm. Like he was in heaven itself. it was not common on a demon.

Dean- Castiel interupted a new hunting. They guys had started ignoring theyr last catch, as it didn’t really need any atention.

-Aziraphale managed to heal the serpent.

Sam droped what he was doing and jerked his chair backwards.  
-wait, he did it now?  
-…he has been doing it for days. But now it is giving it’s fruits. The demon is awake …i think. He is still weak thou. I don’t think he means a threat.  
-as long as he doesn’t bite me again…  
-i though he was already dead. How did the angel heal him?  
-i don’t know, the secretion from his eyes seems to help the healing process…but he says it is becouse Crawly is used to his essence.   
-he is u…- Dean droped the papers he had. He shook his head and took a long drink of beer. That’s it. As a hunter, he had seen everything.

-that’s just peachy.  
-so, what do we do now?

Castiel looked at Sam and answered honestly.

-Now that we know the demon is still alive we can carelessly keep torturing him for information…untill the other demons and angels come to take them.

Both brothers looked at him. Even Castiel noticed now how what he had just said sounded.   
Dean walked at some point near the pair. He noticed no change. The angel was still nursing the dark creature like it was the most precious treasure on earth.   
(wich, in a sense, was)

He shook his head again, and kept walking.  
He ignored them from then on, as he tried to ignore the constant idea of giving them up to their enemies, as he was supposed to do. It somehow seemed wrong, but what else could he do? 

A few more days passed. And he started noticing changes himself:

The angel didn’t wisper nothings to the snake. Now he spoke loud to it, from time to time. And sometimes, he would get a hissing response. At one point, the snake was not only on his hands anymore, but crawling around his neck or a knee, like testing his healing body. 

He wouldn’t recognice it, but he ended up atempting to listen to theyr conversatins, casualy.

-don’t tell them anything, Zssira. Abouth uss. Don’t tell them why they are after uss…  
-Crowley…   
-They are not comon humanss. They know thingss. Been on hell and back…exssspert in torture…   
-oh, dear, i don’t think…  
-they will take pleassure…on our pain. …don’t tell them…  
-hey!

That was it. Dean interupted them. For first time in a long while, the angel lifted his gaze from the snake. Sometimes it sucks to be the bad guy, but it was his job.

-what are you two saying?  
-uh…Nothing.  
-no. You tell me. Now.  
-…  
-… i told you not to try anything.  
-i was not.  
-then tell me!

The pair stood silent. And Dean was too confused to take risks.

-that’s it. Vacation is over.  
-no! Wait!

The snake hissed at him, and the angel held it like a kid holds a puppy he knows they are taking away, but Dean managed to put the reptile back in the fish tank, and out of the angel’s reach. Now he held it in front of his eyes.

-what is it the angel can not tell me?

The animal stared at him like being sorry it was too big of a mouse to eat. With hate.

-don’t pretend. I know you can talk. So spill it!

The burns looked much better now. New healthy flesh had grown where it should be long lost. The serpent’s voice sounded strong and defiant when it said:

-wich angel, mine or YOURSSS?

Dean shook the tank like it was the pug in men in black.

-next time i will trhow you in the bucket before you have a chance to bite me.

The snake didn’t say a thing. He still loked menacing, from his new stance, as tightly stick to the back of the tank as his slim body allowed.

Dean put the snake near the angel, and turned to ask Sam what to do, but then he heared a hising voice come from behind.

-…love what you did with your neck. Makesss you prettier.

He rolled his eyes. …and then placed a metal grid on top of the tank. “to make sure he doesnt scape” he said. …and on top of it a bucket of water.

-just so you don’t try something.

Crowley didn’t answer. Now he was flatest that ever stuck to the corner of his tank, on the ground. Staring at the bucket above him.

The angel complained abouth it. The hunters ofered to ease the security if he would tell the seecret. He didn’t.

Dean and sam didn’t insist: they wherent in the mood for more torture.   
They didn’t know what to do.


	9. release?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have almost finished theyr job...  
> but now they wonder, was it a good idea?  
> theyr runing out of time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, this time my internet was failing...  
> my! this fic is nearly finished!!

Dean needed pie. And beer. And at the same time he kind of felt not like it. But he ate. It was better like that. Sam sat across from him and made a sandwitch. Then ate it too. He looked at his older brother, but Dean didn’t lift his gaze from the table. From the pie. Sam waited ‘till he was satisfied with his stomach before talking.

-are we gonna discuss this?

Dean salowed and got up.

-I’m not hungry anymore. Thanks, dude.  
-Dean.

Dean put the pie in the fridge and walked over to the tv, drinking his beer.

-Dean we have to talk of this.  
-Nah.  
-Dean, this is more compicated that we thoug. And it was suspicious already!

Sam turned down the tv and Dean atempted to complain, but he wouldn’t have it.

-we know nothng of this two, okay? And we have capture, and tortured them, and now what? Are we really going to do this?  
-what, Sammy?  
-give them over to them.  
-no. We can set them free, and let them do whatever they where doing. A fucking angel and demon, in london. I actually don’t wanna know what it was.  
-it seemed to me like they where doing noting.  
-are you friking kidding me, Sammy? And then what? What we tell them?  
-them who?  
-from above and bellow, Sammy. We have problems enough with them. Imagine if they come here, as furious as they are, as complicated as things are right now, and we have helped these two when we where supposed to catch them. I hate to be the bad guy, but is just common sense. We can not, Sam.  
-Dean, since when do we work for them, from above and below? I have a sense, and it tells me we shouldn’t just do this without thinking. Is too fishy. We have to think.

Dean got up. He looked at Sam straight in the eye.

-After all we’ve done, and been throu, i don’t know you. But i trust no demon, and no angel either. I will not let that…snake loose, and the angel is with him, so we can’t free him either. I am sorry they do look kind of… not as bad as they come, but that doesnt make them good, nor inocent either. This is still our job.  
-we are still doing this for the other angels, and the demons.  
-look sammy the way i see it is one less demon and one less motherfucker with feathers. After all that’s happened it can not be so bad. Right?  
-so, are you saying ‘cause they are creatures it doesn’t matter if they die, is autamaticly better is that?  
-…kind of, yeah.  
-good. Look behind you.

Dean made a face, and then turned around. There was nothing in there.

-what?  
-look again. Tell me what you se.

Dean looked. There was nothing. Just a few meters of empty floor and the wall of the room. …and Cass standing there.

-….Cass?  
-oh, well. Is just a motherfucker with feathers, right? What if it was him, Dean?  
-is not the same!  
-you don’t know that. What if they contacted another, say, fucking good hunter to kill him? And he though, “well, it can not be so important”? we know nothing, Dean.  
-but he is with that demon!  
-we know nothing of that demon either! What if he knows something usefull, and it actually is good for us? Dean, we don’t work for above and bellow, we are on our side, humanity.  
-…but they are not part of humanity.  
-Cass is. or he is in our side. I’m just saying. I don’t know if we should do this. Just doubting.

Dean thoug for a moment.

-yeah. Me neither. I don’t know.

There where a few minutes of silence. Sam had to pull of his reserves of streight to say.

-…so?

Dean drank more beer.

-i need some air.

And he left. He took the car and drove away wile drinking the beer. Right then what worried him less was the posibility of cops catching him.  
He stoped at some point, somewhere under a tree’s shadow where the grass grew yellow and dry, and fresh air easied him and his thoughs. He finished his beer, and tryed to clear his thougs. It wasn’t working.

He felt better now, but he knew as soon as he went back to the bunker he wuld foind that angel in the chair and that snake in the tank, and the same problem as before.

What to do?

he had an idea he didn’t know if would work, but he could always try.

-Cass. Cass come here, i have a question.

Castiel was behind him.

-Not so close, Cass. Damn!  
-What is your question?

Dean paced a moment.

-you see, Sam and i have thish doubth…with all that’s happened… we… well. You know, we can’t trust anyone. Not even most angels.  
-yes.  
-and this angel and demon, are very suspicious. You know?  
-yes i know.  
-well my question is… damn. I don’t know what to do with them. Sam says maybe we shouldn’t be hunting them. that we can’t trust the others.  
-…  
-… you see?  
-…i see.  
-well, what do you think?  
-…  
-Cass?  
-i don’t know Dean.  
-…well. That’s…that’s peachy. Wellcome to the group.  
-…but i don’t think it matters.  
-why’s that?  
\- i don’t think we have a choice anymore, Dean.

Said Cass.

-they are coming.

And there was not much else they could do.


	10. delivery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is finally time to deliver the merchancy.  
> but, are Dean and Sam doing the right thing?  
> They'r prisioner's secret comes out in the last minute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe this took me so long to write!   
> well, the fic is nearly finished

Crowley was silent for a few seconds when he saw that Dean took the bucket apart, and the glass tank on his hands. He crawled into a tight ball in the fardest corner of the cage, fearing for the next season of torture… but when he saw the hunter wasn’t heading for the torture room, he had t ask.

-hey kid. Where’e we going?

Dean didn’t answer. He had had enogh of this demon already, and he was in a bad mood. Crowley insisted, specially when he saw that, behind him, Aziraphale was being forced to walk too.

-Camon, be a good lad and speak to me. We already know each other don’t we?  
-Delivery time.

Crowley paled. (Or he would have, if he had a human face at the moment) he kept looking at Dean’s face, searching for a conection of his gaze, but the human was determined not to look at him.

-What’s that supposed to mean? Hey? You! Is not what i think,right? You are not gibing us to… to Them!

Behind him, with an angel blade presed against his lower back and two guys with coctels molotov of holy fire, Aziraphale stoped walking, disvelief on his face.

-Keep walking!  
-But you can’t do that. You… you need us! You need nformation. That’s why you…!  
-You should have talked back there- Dean’s tone was rough. Not like when one is just angry- now you can tell your boss.  
-No!- this time it was Aziraphale- No, please, you don’t understand…  
-You keep walking!- Sam rised the botle in a menacing gesture, but it was frankly, not as scary as the posibility ahead. 

Aziraphale turned around in a sudden movement, and tried to hold to Castiel.

-Please, brother, hear my pleas. Have mercy. Show mercy to us. If not to us, jut to him. Please don’t let them…!  
-Cass! Move it!

Even if just out of confusion, Cass had to react to Dean’s orders ahead and Sam’s compaining by his side, and pushed Aziraphale of him, holding at all times the blade against him and the bottle firmly. But he kept thinking thoroughly, taking all the details into acount, trying to guess the reason for such a behavior on an angel.  
Meanwhile, in Dean’s hands, the snake twisted and jumped violently, like trying to break the glass. It knew it couldn’t get out of the devil’s trap, but it was just desperate to make each of dean’s steps every little harder to take. Hissing and insults sounded toghether strong, unhuman and jet so natural.

Dean put the tank in the back of the car and closed the door. Then he took air thinking how to get throu the whole drive while still sane. He decided to put music on.

Castiel took Aziraphale by teleportation. He had the angel blade and one bottle of holy oil with fire, so the winchesters trusted him. Dean got into the car with Sam and both listened the voice melted with hissing from behind, loud and clear.

None of the brothers spoke. Dean just rised the volume to a nearly unsoportable level, and drove off, the demon’s complaitns still annoying him.

He had to drive faster when he got to the place: a clear between a lonly dirt road and some old trees, at the last hours of night. They could see in the distance that Cass was habing trouble with his prisioner.

He stoped right next to them, nearly runing over the blond one, and both Sam and him run out of the car and stood at each side of Cass against the principality, holy weapons on theyr hands.

Castiel rised from the floor.

-sorry- he said- he suddenly strugled…and he is stronger than me.  
-you still held him down right, buddy. Well done.  
-You understand nothing!- The other was still on the floor, his wings out. A desperated face on.- we are not your enemys. We just… just… please, you can’t do this. Have mercy!  
-I am afraid you have been showed too much mercy already, Aziraphale.

The three of them turned. Now they where standing between Azirapahe and the car…and Naomy.

None of them had words. Time was up.  
Naomy cleared her throat. She was not alone. Her two “bodyguards” where by her side. The one with beard had a clenched jaw.

-don’t make us wait even more. 

Dean tried to stuter something, but he was cut by Aziraphale.

-Naomy- he spoke with a weak, gashping voice, as he got on his feet trembing, and walked forward.  
-Naomi please… what was my sin? Why now? We…

Naomi did a gesture and the one with the beard held Aziraphale from the hair and the neck, forcing him to kneel at her feet.

-I i have to explain it to you, then you are lost far beyond any hope- She then looked at the brothers- It seems you have succeeded in your job. Well done.  
-Not yet sweetheart.

She was interrupted by a, voice with accent. The king of hell, acompanied by Hastur walked in the direction of the car.

-you boys still have something for me?

Before Dean could open the back of the car, Aziraphale was begging again.

-Please! Please not that! Not him! Take me but have mercy on him!

The angel that holded him held him tightly, and hushed him rougly. Meanwhile, Dean got the fishtank out of the car.

-Oh! Love what you’ve done, you shouldn’t have…

It looked like Crowley was enjoying this. Aziraphale kept saying Dean was comiting a terrible mistake. And to the last moment, Dean kept habing doubts… but time had come.

Crowley hissed from the corner of the tank before his king grasped him tightly from the back of the head and got him out, forcing him to turn into his human form, now held by the neck from one side.

-Finally face to face. “Crowley”?  
-Ugh…consider it a tribute.  
-right. Anything you’d like to say before we’re back home?  
-uh…

Crawly was trying to think of something. he really was, his last words before going back to perdition had to be important, right? Useless, maybe, but at least cool? Something from queen, maybe?  
He could not concentrate with the sound of Aziraphale strugling with his own kind. He believed (or at least wanted to believe) that heaven would go easier on him that what hell had on storage for hishelf…

-Please!! I was tempted! I questioned inefavility, i failed the cause, but he did nothing, he was doing his job! Please, have mercy on him and i’ll i’ll…!

Naomy bend on the middle to look closer to his face, serious, terrifying.

-After all of this you still worry only for that…thing, and not for your sin!?

Aziraphale looked at her eyes, tearfull and desperate.

-love is never a sin.

In a burst of rage, she slaped him across one wing… with her angel blade. Cousing a very painfull looking wound, and a cryfrom him.

-Blasfemy!

On the other side of the scene, Crawly suddenly lost his cool.

-Hey! Leave the angel! He has most grace on his glasses than all of you toghether. What you punish him for, if he is just too good for his own? Leave him or i swear i’ll… i’ll…!

In the middle of the clear, Dean, Sam and Cass still had to react.

Dean was still frowning like he was watching something gross he could not compreend, sam looked from one side to the other nd Cass… well, he just tilted his head to one side and frowned, atempting to asimilate the depht of the situation.

-Dean, we have to do something- Saind Sam.  
-like what?  
-i don’t know but this seems… grong!  
-which part of it?  
-all of it!

Naomy gave up her patience.

-Do you mind, demon?

Crowley had kept a smugly smile all the while. He rised one finger.

-who, me? Oh, sorry. I was enyoing the show.

And with one gesture, he throwed Crawly to the floor behind him, where the hellhound that had come with him jumped onto him like it was a chewtoy.

Aziraphale cried. His captors contampled like it served him well. The demons enyoied the spectacle like it was an amusing camfire.

One human murmured.

-you’re right…maybe

And that was enough for one angel to jump onto the back of the king of hell, angel blade in hand.


	11. battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole thing ends up in a three sided fight. of course.  
> wich side will the brothers pick? and wich side will loose the most?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of this fic. there will be an epiloge. hope you guys like it!
> 
> PD: when i have time i will post an image of this chapter in my deviantart page...

Crowley did not expect the hit. He still didn’t get killed: he was a powerful demon and his oponent didn’t really mean to kill: he was usefull. The stabb on his shoulder was just very painfull, very wakening. With a startle burst of energy to pushh the angel away, and turning just one moment with a furious gaze, the king of hell was gone.

His hellund stood behind, like a proper servant, to fight the enemy.

Luckily, the creature was not fully invisible for the angel. Unluckily, it was not alone.

But Hastur was to rencorous, too furious to behave like a proper servant. Too close to his goal to loose sight of it now.

-No!- he growled inhumanly- you wil not get away this time!

At the time this all was happening, Sam and Dean had to react fast. On the moment Cass appeared on the demon’s back, Naomi glanced him doubtfully, and her servant who was not occupied went for the traitor Castiel.

He got intercepted. Two winchester brothers stood on his way, holy weapons in hand.

Least, but not last, Naomi decided to flee with the merchancy right away, but said merchancy struggled.

Aziraphale was a principality. He was lower than the other two, and he was just one, but he still fought feroceusly. Unlike the other two, he had wings. On theyr fisic form. A very uncomon trait he still kept from the old days.

The wings of an angel are mighty. Even in desperate flutter, still with one hurt. Naomy got hit one the face with the healty one.

This had never hapened to her, and she stutered bakwards, one handto her broken human nose. While the shock lasted, her inferior strugled against an equal who had a lot to lose. Angel blade versus angel wings.

Naomi’s servant didn’t dare call for her help. But he wanted to: Aziraphale was somehow more experienced, and for some reason didn’t care to sacrifice his precious, sensitive, fragile wings to keep the blade in struggle, while habing the rest of his limbs free.

Aziaphale’s wings ended up bleedind with sreads, white, toasted bood stained feathers all over the place. But Naomy had now only oe servant.

She contemplated him with horror and misunderstanding, like she was in a dream she couldn’t understand. Aziraphale. That Aziraphale. Weak and useless had dared to fight her and killed (killed!) one valuable servant of hers.

Aziraphale looked at er with hate and rage on his eyes. Something that ‘till the last years had been unusual in an angel. Up to last minutes in his case. But this moment didn’t last. Aziraphale appeared right behind hastur, who was fighting Castiel and made sure the angel blade hit in one very vital point.  
Once Hastur was down, Aziraphale found himself looking right into the eyes of yet another of his sibilings. His gaze was simple and doubtfull. Like there was so much he didn’t know. But deep. Like he understood. Specially in conmparation with his, so experienced, tired of the endless war and terrified only for one possible loss.

And so, ignoring Naomy and Sam and Dean and his brothers, Aziraphale kneeled over his lover, next to a dead hellhound.

The rest of the short, chaotic battle passed by like the sound of a nearby party. It couldn’t reach him. It couldn’t reach them.

-Crowley?

The demon he called so took a moment in grunting. His human body so broken, his demon shelf so weakened. It barely winced and looked up with yellow, snake like eyes.

-…angel… you ok?

Aziraphale sadly laghted it off. He barely rememberd his shreded wings. He felt like only the other’s injuries where important.

-you?  
-uh… not as hurt as my pride… what was left of it.  
-my dear, it has allways been quite impressive.  
-they tried to… take …us, apart.  
-They could not.  
-…yeah. I still don’t understand how come they keep missing.

Aziraphale couldn’t find words. He had a painful lump in his throat.

For the last days he had feared, and i the last minutes he had though…

-angel? You ok?  
-…i though… we would never talk like this again…

He didn’t cry. The adrenaline was washing off, and the weight of the recent events fell on him like a waterfall but he had cry already. Now he only needed to breathe, and maybe lye down. Take some tea? Write? Do nothing at all? Go figure.

Right there, right then, he could only try to level his breathing and look at his demon, carass his hair.

Crowley slowly and painfully incorporated. He wanted to say something. it came out akwardly like “oh angel…com’on…” but in the end he just embraced him. And they held to each other.

Castiel looked at them without moving. Taking in this fascinating fact. Learning.

The sound of sniffing and sobing came this time from the demon, who carased confortly his lover’s back.

-easy. It’s over…that’s…- he sniffed again. And then something happened.

As Dean and Sam where coming over, and stood nearby, two large, dark colored wings appeared from the demon’s back, and surrounded the pair, like a hawk conforting it’s chick. The broken ones underneath delicatedly participated in the embrace, in a more snugly way.

Then, the dark ones swifted, and with the sound of a flatter of wings, they where gone.


	12. Epiloge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley can't help to get atached to a few things from time to time, but they are very conscient that the world is constantly changing and nothing really lasts forever.
> 
> Meanwhile, Dean and Castiel have theyr own issues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the last part of this fic.  
> I do hope you like it.

Dean crounched down, and took from the floor a white, brownish golden feather with red stains… nearly the size of his arm. He wondered if he could use it for something…and…

-Cass?

The angel was still contemplating the place where the two lovers had disapeared, like it was a newfound, misterious abiss, and was deciding if it was wise to explore it.

-Cass. Did i ask you why he, they, had wings, and not you?  
-…i am wearing a human vessel. They use old bodies, wich where made to suit them.  
-oh. …so you never had one of those?

Castiel turned his head slightly towards Dean. He didnt spoke another word. He didn’t usually show his emotions. His curiosity for Castiel’s wings was already too exposed for his taste. 

Castiel also had confusing thougs. He had dismissed them, thinking that it was only natural to care for his protected one. (even against heaven’s orders…?) and that relationships of any kind were not meant for an angel (he tried not to think of the case of the nephilim…it was only more confusing)

But, there it was. In front of him. As natural and as extrange as the world itself.   
Love, between an angel and a demon.

How did it work? What was it’s origin, its nature? Wich one felt more or less… This whas only problem of them. The fact was undeniable.

His problem now, was to deal with his own.

Dean and Sam drove back in silence, sharing just half a handfull of akward lines. What they had done, what was on that demon’s chest, and that angel’s head… it was all too complicated for one night.

Specially for Dean.

Meanwhile, for the first time in many, many years, a bookstore in shojo was empty.  
All the books, tea and other small details were now in a tiny house, by the beach, placed in one of the many small islands of the caribean wich are not habitated, and can be bought to enjoy a wonderfull retirement.

A demon with his shirt half unbotoned rested his weight in the dorframe wile watching the end of the day, as an angel walked around the house wishing things onto it’s new place just enough to make tea.

He pased crowley a warm cup.

-I do believe there won’t be enough space in this house for all your things…and my books.  
-Well, it was about time you sold them.

The angel gave him such a stare he became sorry for ever thinking of the joke.

-Oh, don’t worry! We will wish it into a bigger place…  
-But i like it simple..humble…  
-Oh, come on, angel. A bookshop is no excuse here. We will have a library. And a propper living room with all the other stuff… 

Aziraphale stared into the dawn lit sea while carassing the cup of tea.

-It sounds…human.  
-well, that is another way of humblility, isn’t it?

Aziraphale wanted to answer, but before he found words we turned slightly into Crowley, and Crowley into him, and with a silent, still worried face, they shared an almost chaste, oh, so sweet and deep kiss; while the sun went down in the sea.


End file.
